A friendly ghost
by Svetlanacat
Summary: Past memories. His partner had a secret passion...  Answer to prompt 112 MFU fantaisies


He had a very precise vision of who he wanted to become. But he was out of patience. And the guy sitting next to him didn't help. A young guy... Older than he looked. Surely. Taciturn. And that was an understatement. A nod in greeting. Then, he had buried himself in some reading. Reading ... Probably a way to disguise his lack of composure. Hidden behind those long blond hairs. Too long.

Well. An effort.

-Are you nervous, ... ?

He swallowed « boy ». The young man turned to him, with an inquiring gaze.

-I beg your pardon, sir ?

The hint of an accent, vague. Fine features, smiling inquiringly. Attentive blue-eyes. Polite words. Courteous tone. Nevertheless... And the man couldn't explain, it added up to « You are really boring me... » This guy, actually, was infuriating. He needed...

-Mr Kuryakin ? If you please ?

The guy followed the secretary, leaving his book on the chair. Kurya... What ? That... That sounded Russian. A Russian ? Here ? He couldn't help staring at the book. It wasn't venomous... A bomb ? Well, they wouldn't blame an Uncle agent... an Uncle agent-to-be... for being... curious. He looked around, and picked up the book. Oh, the show-off ! The damned little show-off ! A mouthful of a title... Quantum Mechanic... And a malicious idea occurred to him. A Russian ? An Uncle agent ? He wouldn't ever see again the guy... He got out of his pocket the gift he had bought for his niece, and tore the two covers. He carefully swapped them, and put back, innocently the Russian's book on his chair. He felt... better. He felt... satisfied. Justice. Unfortunately, he wouldn't enjoy the man's face...

And the door opened again. He hurried to join the secretary, almost bumping into the guy. Impassive face. Good riddance, Casper !

Napoleon Solo ran leisurely his fingers along the books. Illya's books... Oh... One of them was torn... His friend treasured them. He would be mad. Napoleon Solo sighed and read the title. Of course... Quantum Mechanic. Then, he leafed through the pages. And he gulped. Oh, the show-off ! The real little show-off ! He rushed towards the bathroom and entered, waving the corpus delicti.

-I knew... I knew it ! All these years... You lied !

Illya Kuryakin switched off the hair drier, shook his hair and raised an eyebrow... His partner was still waving a book under his nose.

-For years, we admired you. Our brainy Russian ! My so clever partner ! Your Quantum Mechanic Ph. D. ... Poppycock, my boy ! Drop your mask, now. You are just a ... Casper addict ! A cartoon boy ! That's what you did when we thought you were going home at night ! You went to the cinema !

Illya's amazed face ! Napoleon Solo burst into laughter. He almost cried. And he stopped.

No embarrassment. No anger. Something like ... nostalgia. The Russian took hold of the book, and opened it.

-Illya, honestly... Casper, the friendly ghost ! My friend... Well, Uncle ladies were looking for your birthday gift...

He paused again, waiting for a reaction. None. Illya quietly handed the book back to him. Napoleon smiled, gently.

-You have not to feel ashamed, my friend. You like Casper... you like it. An Uncle agent can rightly like cartoon characters...

This time...

-I don't feel ashamed, Napoleon. This book... is a memory.

-A... memory ?

This nostalgic little smile...

-A good memory, Napoleon.

-A ... good memory ? This book ?

-A ... gift, Napoleon. The first gift I have been given... here. When I left the USSR, I mean. A precious gift. Useful. Casper looks for friends... and people run away from him... because he fears them. And he manages to get some friends, anyway...

As they were leaving the apartment, Napoleon Solo grabbed his friend's shoulder.

-A gift ? Your first gift, here ? Who...

Illya Kuryakin smiled. He leaned towards his friend.

-Eventually... There is something about me that the Great Napoleon Solo ignores ? That's reassuring...

-Illya ! Was he... she... a close friend ?

The tone was softly threatening. The Russian stroke his partner hairs.

-**He** ... was a chance encounter. A fleeting passion. A ... tearing passion.

-Searing...

-Tearing.

-Illya ! Illya, you won't... Illya !


End file.
